Once Upon A Time
by ink teardrops
Summary: Perhaps, this is just a tale of two soul-mates, love and how it really can conquer everything. Maybe it is as simple as that. —-Or, three defining moments in the lives of Molly and Arthur Weasley.


_A/N: Hello. I realise that I have been somewhat neglecting my stories as of late. This must be the first update in, what, two weeks? *hides sheepish expression* and, for that, I am incredibly sorry. The main reason for this is the fact that a week ago, I went back to school and the previous week was spent frantically doing last minute homework. I must warn you now that I am entering a rather important and a rather hectic school year. For those of you who are aware of how the English school system works, I have just started my final year of GCSEs and, as I would like to get some sort of decent job when I am older, I will have to work quite hard this year. For this reason, some of my fics may not be updated as regularly as they once were. I promise that nothing shall be abandoned but, just some updates may be slower than previously. That's all._

_Oh, and the second reason was that I really, really struggled with this fic but, finally inspiration struck and, here you have it._

_**Challenge:**__ Fire the Canon's Canon Relationship Challenge on HPFC._

_**Pairing:**__ Molly and Arthur (given to me)_

_**Prompts:**__ Shop and quail (neither used particularly well, I must admit)._

* * *

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am here to tell you a story. Our story has no ending yet but it most certainly has a beginning, a middle and a promise of a close enough to happily-ever-after ending.

Of course, our story contains (as all the best do) a prince, a princess, an evil wizard, a brave hero, a wise old man, a fairy-tale castle, dragons, magic, an almost damsel-in-distress, family and most importantly, love. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I suppose I could say that our story is centred around love and I suppose I would be right because, after all, love is the reason for this story even existing. Perhaps, that is what this entire story is about.

But, although this tale that I am about to spin to you is focused predominately around love, in the background, a dangerous beast lurks (just as they do within all the best stories). However, this beast is more dangerous, more destroying, more ruining and more heart-breaking than any beast that you have ever encountered or heard of before. War. War is the monster that skulks throughout this tale. War is the monster that discolours our story and that in some ways, war defines it. Without war, the ending may have been happier, without war, other characters may have not existed, without war our tale may have had a very different outcome. But, there's no point in us sitting here and pondering about the might've-beens, the what-ifs and the maybes, is there, ladies and gentlemen? Because, that's no way to spend a life, thinking about what could have happened, instead of living in the present.

But, yes, war. War does define our story, but, as most monsters do, it did meet its end at the hands of a courageous hero, very dear to our protagonists. But, as most monsters do, it did leave its mark.

But, perhaps, I am being a bit too definitive. And perhaps, our story _is_ about love and not about how war defines it but about how _it_ defines war and about how it survives, conquers and eventually overcomes it. And maybe, this is a tale of how love can beat everything.

Maybe I am overcomplicating our tale, ladies and gentlemen because perhaps, this is not a complex tale. Perhaps this is just a tale of love and two soul-mates, love and how it can really conquer everything. Maybe it is as simple as that.

And, so, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I present to you our story. I warn you now, that our prince and princess do encounter some obstacles along the way and that this tale is not one made up entirely of smiles and happiness but, I assure you that it is a tale of love and that it will have (as all the best stories do) a happily-ever-after.

* * *

**i. the beginning**

_(So, ladies and gentlemen, let us begin. Let us start at the very beginning and let me introduce to you our prince and princess.)_

Once upon a time, in a secluded corner of Scotland, there was a castle. This was no ordinary castle, this was a castle of magic. And, of course, in this castle, there lived a princess. She was a Prewett and she was loyal, feisty and caring. And, of course, because every story (and princess) needs one, there was a prince. He was a Weasley and he was loyal, fun-loving and warm-hearted. The Weasleys were a respected (albeit somewhat poor) family and the Prewetts had likewise been making their name for centuries and centuries. It seemed only a matter of generations before these two bloodlines aligned and so, when it became apparent that the youngest Prewett daughter and the Weasley son were best friends at Hogwarts, many people were sure that soon enough, their guesses would become reality. The Weasleys and the Prewetts, two red-haired children that played together in the garden, two Gryffindor pupils who were the best of friends and two extraordinary people that just seemed to fit. Really, it couldn't have been more perfect if it was written in the stars. And Arthur, our prince, worried that perhaps, it was too conveniently perfect to be true.

And it sounded so perfect in his head, as he ran their names together, trying to gather up enough courage to ask her _MollyandArthur ArthurandMolly MollyArthur PrewettWeasley_. He would spend hours lying in his dorm at night, wide awake, running their names together and trying to convince himself that there was some chance that he liked her back.

_You're a Gryffindor, Arthur_, he told himself sternly. _You can do this_, he repeated over and over again.

And, finally, he did. He didn't quail, he walked up to her and sat by her on the sofa in front of the common room fire, before quickly blurting out that he liked her, swiftly followed by a request for an accompaniment to Hogsmeade.

"Of course," she answered, unable to stop the smile of pure delight from spreading over her face.

And with those two simple words, our prince's spirits soared higher than they _ever_ had done before.

That was until, moments later, when Molly pressed her lips to his and in a flurry of fireworks, his spirits reached _gravity-defying_ heights.

Then, she bade him goodnight and returned to her dormitory, where she proceeded to giddily tell her friends about the best night of her life so far. And Arthur settled himself down on a crimson sofa, his stomach still swooping with pure joy and his mind still reeling from the events that had just occurred.

He made up his mind that nothing could ever be too perfect and that maybe they were all right all along as he stared up at the inky blue heavens and thought to himself that _Molly and Arthur_ might as well be etched into the sky for all to see, spelt out between the stars overhead.

Because the feel of Molly Prewett's lips against his felt _right_ and for once, it was as simple as that.

* * *

**ii. the middle**

_(And now, I warn you, ladies and gentleman, we reach a bump in the road. It was not the first obstacle that they had encountered, no, certainly not, but it was certainly the largest so far.)_

Flick and swish. Flick and swish. Flick and swish. Flick and swish_._

Molly repeated the monotonous action over and over again, as she levitated the shopping away. _Concentrate, Molly, don't think about it, _she told herself sternly, trying to block out the words that had been encircling her brain for the last 24 hours, _he'sbackhe'sbackhe'sback, _but with little success.

Yesterday morning, she had woken up with butterflies in her stomach, terrified for Harry's impending task, but she could see hope, it was not the end of the world. Yesterday her life had direction. She was sure of the path she was going to take; it was drawn out on the map with clarity and there was a promise of a happy, peaceful life. She was going to grow old with Arthur by her side, watch as her children grew up, left school, got jobs, settled down and had families of their own. She was going to have a peaceful life. But, ever since Harry had returned from the maze, clutching Cedric Diggory's body and the Triwizard cup, covered in blood, dirt and tears before whispering those fateful words, it was almost as though a mist had descended and no longer was her life the clear cut path she'd previously seen. Now, she could only see a few feet in front of her, and all that awaited her was death, pain, heartbreak blood-loss and _war_. War.

She was in the middle of a war now. Her husband, her children were in the middle of a war. With a start, the shopping she had been in the middle of levitating fell to the ground as Molly's hand flew to her face, trying desperately to hold back the choked sobs that were suddenly falling from her mouth. Her babies were growing up in a war. Of course, they had all been around for the First Wizarding War, but then they were toddlers. They had barely any idea of what was going on and they were just innocent children who had done nothing wrong. Aside from her darling brothers, her family had barely been targeted. But this time, it would be different. So very different.

They were Weasleys, the biggest blood-traitor family around. They were practically the adopted family of Harry Potter, so surely they would be targets. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George were of age. They were adults now and she couldn't stop them fighting because they could decide. And Ron was Harry's best friend, and the simple matter of not yet being seventeen had never stopped him before. And Ginny was fierce and brave and she wouldn't want to be left behind. Harry was practically her son as well and he had witnessed his return and he would surely be who Voldemort would want to kill the most. Her poor, poor children were growing up in a war.

And Arthur would fight, he would surely fight and he was a member of the Ministry and so would probably be enrolled in some sort of mission there. And if she lost him, she wouldn't know how to go on.

Suddenly, she couldn't hold it in anymore and the tears that had been threatening to fall for so long finally escaped and cascaded down her cheeks because nothing was safe anymore.

Suddenly, the front door creaked open and Arthur's voice called out, "Molly, dear, I'm home! You wouldn't believe the day I've had at the office! It's – oh."

His voice stopped as soon as he entered the kitchen and saw Molly stood in the middle of the room, tears glistening on her face.

"Molly?" he asked, concern evident in his voice, before quickly rushing over and pulling her into his arms.

"Arthur… our ch-children, t-they're in the middle of a w-war," she sobbed, burying her face into his chest, "anything c-could happen to them, Arthur."

And Arthur knew exactly how she felt, because he had spent every single minute of the day, sat in his office, worrying about his family and how this war was going to change their lives and so, he held her in his arms, soothed her tears and whispered words of comfort in her ear.

Much later, when the sky was just beginning to turn to dark blue and the sun was dipping below the horizon and finally, the flow of tears had stopped, Arthur pressed his lips to hers and she smiled up at him.

Because, sometimes, all that Molly and Arthur needed was each other and for once, it was as simple as that.

* * *

**iii. almost happily-ever-after**

_(Ladies and gentleman, we re-join our story many, many years later. The beast that is war has been slain, our protagonists have encountered their biggest loss yet and, finally, it's almost time for their happily-ever-after but, ladies and gentlemen, it is not yet the end. In some aspects it is just another beginning.)_

The scent of barbeques that seemed to be ever persistent on warm days emanating from the nearby Muggle houses, the smell of the honeysuckle that grew up the side of their home and the aroma of baking bread drifted towards Molly, as she stood in the kitchen of her higgledy-piggledy home that meant so much more to her than any dwelling she had ever encountered before and that was, despite the imperfections and flaws that it possessed, her castle.

Molly sighed contentedly as she breathed in the fragrance that reminded her so much of sunny days spent with her family in the Burrow. The sounds of laughter, chatter and the distant _thrum_ of a faraway lawn-mower drifted in through the open window of the kitchen, the sounds that always seemed to accompany warm days.

She looked out of the window into the back-garden of her home, where her family was assembled in order to celebrate the sixth birthday of Lucy Weasley, the fifth eldest of her grandchildren (including Teddy Lupin, whom Molly counted as a grandson, despite the fact that he technically was not biologically related).

The sunshine enveloped her family, making them appear as though they were surrounded by an ethereal golden haze which, Molly pondered, was not really needed to make her family look beautiful or magical, as, without it, they were already pretty perfect.

"_Ring-a-ring o' roses, a pocket full of posies,"_

The clear, sing-song voices of her grandchildren rang out and Molly turned to look at the source of the noise, and saw that Dominique, Molly, Lucy and Roxanne were holding hands, standing in a circle and spinning round, their long hair billowing out behind them, which was coloured from silvery-blonde to deep brown to strawberry-blonde to typical Weasley red. Their summer dresses swished around their knees and smiles of pure joy were etched upon their faces as they spun round and round and sung in their angelic voices.

Nearby, Victoire and Teddy Lupin (his hair coloured a flaming orange, in honour of the family he was surrounded by) were engaged in deep conversation, sat opposite each other, cross legged and looking completely unaware of the happenings of their surroundings. Louis, James and Fred II were attempting to climb one of the trees that sat at the edge of the garden, being watched by Fleur and Audrey, both of whom had amused smiles etched upon their features. Albus and Rose both toddled past the tree trunk, in attempt to chase the gnomes around and were quickly followed by an exhausted and harassed looking Harry and Ron. Hermione and Ginny stood in the shade of the house with Lily and Hugo in their arms, keeping a watchful eye on their other children. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Angelina and George were all stood in the centre of the garden, roaring with laughter at some joke that George had just made.

"_A-tishoo, a-tishoo, we all fall down!"_

_We all fall down_. _We all fall down._ The final line of the children's nursery rhyme rang through her head continuously as she contemplated her large but loving family. _We all fall down_. Her family seemed to be perfect now but, once upon a time, they all had fallen down. The Second Wizarding War had come around and had finally been slain, but the scars that it had inflicted upon her family had been so great that they didn't feel like celebrating the end of darkness for a long, long time. The loss of daring, courageous, loving Fred had been a shock to the senses. To have someone who was a vibrant whirlwind of jokes, laughter, smiles, bravery and loyalty suddenly cease to exist caused a gaping hole to be punched right in the middle of her family and for a while, they had all struggled to see any sort of future. But, gradually, they picked themselves up off the ground, brushed their robes off and slowly moved on.

Of course, as she gazed out over the gathering of relatives in her back garden, a lump formed in her throat as she imagined an older Fred stood next to his brothers, a couple more red-haired children running around causing mayhem and a George who was still whole. But, as she looked over at her grandchildren, playing in the garden of her home, she realised that she truly was blessed.

Molly was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the soft sound of Arthur's footsteps entering the kitchen and walking towards the window that she stood in front of. His arm snaked around her waist and Molly leaned back into his chest.

"We're so lucky, Arthur," she whispered to him, voicing the thoughts that had been resonating around her head for the last ten minutes.

"I know, Molly, we are. Never in a million years did I imagine that I would be standing with Molly Prewett in my arms, looking at our grandchildren. I didn't think that you would _ever_ say yes," he replied, fondly remembering the day that he finally asked out the girl he had liked for so long.

"I never thought that I'd become a Weasley, I honestly thought that you would never ask," Molly replied, smiling at the memory of her fifteen year old self, constantly fretting about whether Arthur would ever ask her out or not.

"Well, Molly, I did finally and, look where we are now," he replied, gesturing out of the open window towards their family.

"Oh, Arthur, we've done it. We've got through it all, haven't we? We can finally live happily ever after," she whispered, turning to face her husband.

"We certainly can, Mollywobbles," he replied, a grin slowly creeping across his face.

"I love you," she said, standing on her tip-toes and pressing her lips to his.

"I love you too," he replied, bending over slightly, "and, for the record, even if I hadn't plucked up the courage to ask you, we would have still got together. It was practically written in the stars."

And, as the laughter of their family continued, as the July sun streamed in through the windows of their home and as Arthur held her in his arms, Molly realised that he was absolutely right.

Because they were soul-mates and, for once, it really _was_ as simple as that.

* * *

Here, in most stories, you would find written 'The End' but, ladies and gentlemen, as you are well aware, this is not the end of our story. No, it will still be many moons before the final full stop will be written and those two words scripted across the page. It is far from the end.

But, I ask you, does this really signify the end? Does the end really come hand in hand with a lifeless body and a mound of fresh earth? Or does it not? Don't memories, photographs, stories and articles ensure that that person lives on? Doesn't just the mere thought of somebody ensure that 'The End' will never, ever be written at the bottom of the story, because, really, the stories live on forever, don't they?

Perhaps this is why I am telling you this tale. Perhaps it is to preserve the memory of our prince and princess and to make sure that their story never dies and to ensure that no one ever forgets Molly and Arthur Weasley. Or, maybe, I am narrating to you their adventures because, perhaps, this is simply a story of love and how it truly _can_ conquer everything. But, maybe, this story is being recounted to you to signify the start of many stories, the stories of their children and their children and their children's children.

Or, maybe, simply, this is just a story of two soul-mates whose tale deserves to be spread across the world because it is just so _beautiful_ that it restores faith in the fact that love really _does_ exist.

But, anyway, ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the end. It was not an entirely smooth ride, nor was it planned but, we have reached our destination. And now, our protagonists can retire to their warm, homely house and live the rest of their lives peacefully, growing old together and watching the next generations of Weasleys flourish and thrive.

Now, we leave our story, safe in the knowledge that our prince and our princess can finally live their well-deserved happily-ever-after. And, their story will live on, in our hearts and our minds, whispered to one another in times of sorrow and passed down the generations, meaning that there will be no need for a 'The End'.

And so, we bid our characters goodbye (although, they'll never truly be gone) and we move onto the next tale but, we will never forget the story of two soul-mates who encountered so much and yet, still carried on, all in the name of family, friendship and hope.

Or maybe, just simply, love.

* * *

_**fin.**_


End file.
